


i was once in captivity but now i am saved by grace

by fructose



Series: a thread from one's own innards [3]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Gang AU, Kinda, Knives, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Masturbation, PWP, Serial Killers, Sex, gross stuff, serial killer au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-02 02:07:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6546082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fructose/pseuds/fructose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Fuckin’ do it,” Josh said. He wanted to sound threatening, but his voice had slipped into something desperate. His heart beat hard in his chest, hushing blood in his ears and between his legs, his cock an uncomfortable weight between the tight v of his thighs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i was once in captivity but now i am saved by grace

Josh’s hand was pressed against the front of Tyler’s throat, hard enough for him to feel the shift of Tyler’s muscles as he sucked in air. Josh’s other hand was down the back of Tyler’s unzipped jeans, his fingers between the cheeks of Tyler’s ass, pressing into him steady and agonising.

Tyler let his eyes slip closed, his brow furrowed, his cock hard and uncomfortable against the open fly of his trousers. He gurgled as he tried to make a sound, then he sucked in a ragged breath.

“What d’you want?” Josh asked, his voice quiet, listening to the noises Tyler was making. Cataloguing every laboured shift, every desperate breath. “You wanna speak?”

Tyler pressed back against Josh’s fingers inside him, desperate, and nodded his head as best he could against the press of Josh’s hand, his mouth open and wet.

Josh let the fingers around Tyler’s throat go slack but kept his palm pressed against his skin, pushing his head back as he gasped for air. “What is it?” Josh said, pressing close.

“I want-” Tyler cut himself off, his eyes rolling up towards the ceiling. “Hurt me.”

Josh breathed out slow and steady, his cock twitching in his trousers. He shifted his hips and the friction made him grunt. “How?”

“However you want.” Josh had seen Tyler kill men with his bare hands, fingers steady and brutal around throats, thumbs dug deep into eye sockets, hands gouging through slews of innards. He had seen Tyler tear pieces off of men with his teeth, seen him hack and burn and maim. But at that moment Tyler was weak, a shaking husk, half a thing without Josh at his side.

“Ok,” Josh said and dug his fingers deeper, his mouth open as he watched Tyler shudder against him.

 

Josh found that hurting Tyler came easy; he tied him to the counter in the kitchen, silver-soft duct tape wrapped tight around his wrists and around the metal post holding up the worktop. Tyler huddled on his knees and pressed his face against the cool metal bar as Josh fucked him, breathing hard when Josh had finished, Tyler’s own cock aching and untouched. Josh had wrapped a hand around Tyler’s mouth, fingers squeezing his nose and blocking his air whenever he got too loud.

Josh made himself some food afterwards, letting his eyes flick down as he chopped vegetables with a black handled knife, watching Tyler shuffle around as he tried to find some friction between his own thighs, wrists still red and taught above him. Josh reached down and took Tyler’s jaw in his hand, turning his head to face him.

“Stop fidgeting, Tyler,” he said slowly, his free hand still gripping the kitchen knife above him.

Tyler let out a steady breath, his eyes following Josh’s arm to the knife in his hand, his neck twisted awkwardly. “Fuck, Josh,” he bit out. “Josh.”

Josh nodded. He leaned down and cut the duct tape away from Tyler’s wrists then slipped the blade of the knife under Tyler’s jaw.

“You wanna come now, huh?”

Tyler nodded, his eyes closed.

“Get over there then.” Josh pulled the knife away and nudged Tyler away from the kitchen, towards the adjoining space that made up their sparse living room; a white table on a dark wood floor, a grey couch and two grey chairs with thin wooden legs, a low, long cabinet and a short stack of records. “In the middle,” Josh directed, pointing with the knife.

Tyler shuffled on his red knees to the centre of the living room, head down in front of the couch. Josh looked at the pale expanse of his back for a moment, the curve of his scapulas, the faint spray of freckles across his shoulders, before he stepped passed Tyler and sat on the edge of the couch, kitchen knife held loose in his hand.

Tyler was still hard, had been for most of the last three hours, cock red and curved between his thighs.

“Tyler.” Josh slouched back into the couch, his legs parted wide in front of him so that he could see the shape of Tyler knelt on the wooden floor ahead of him, placid and aching. “Touch yourself.”

Tyler let out a breath and nodded, bringing his arm around and wrapping his fingers around his cock with a sigh. His wrists were still angry red and Josh knew that his whole body must be aching. Tyler moved his hand quickly, his eyes cast down, his mouth open but silent.

Josh wondered if Tyler wanted more, more pain, more punishment. He thought about pressing Tyler face-first into the floorboards, his boot against the back of Tyler’s neck. He thought about standing up and fucking Tyler’s mouth, gagging him. He thought about cutting him, about stabbing the kitchen knife into some non-vital and soft part of his body, fucking him with Tyler’s own hot blood on his fingers.

Tyler was close, his body curling in, focus zoned in on the hand moving between his legs. Josh watched the muscles in his arms, the strain of his thighs.

“Tyler,” he said before he could finish. “Look at me now.”

Tyler groaned and tipped his head back, body curled forward. The image was a thundering bolt to Josh’s stomach, a shudder that rattled him from throat to chest to cock, watching Tyler watch him. There was a fury in his eyes, a look Josh knew well, and when Tyler came the noise he made was akin to the sounds he made when he killed.

Tyler hunched over, pressing his forehead against the cool wood of the floorboards. Josh’s fingers twitched, the knife ready in his hand.

“You gonna clean that up?” Josh said slowly, testing. He leaned forwards and said again, “Tyler, you gonna clean that mess up?”

Tyler looked up at Josh and then underneath the curve of his own body at the mess on the wooden floor. “You want-” he started.

“I want you to clean it up,” Josh said, heart hammering. He reached out with the kitchen knife, letting the tip slide across Tyler’s cheek. “Now.”

Tyler took a breath, eyes burning into Josh’s, then shuffled back. He looked at what he had done, at the semen cooling on the floorboards, then back up at Josh.

“Fuckin’ do it,” Josh said. He wanted to sound threatening, but his voice had slipped into something desperate. His heart beat hard in his chest, hushing blood in his ears and between his legs, his cock an uncomfortable weight between the tight v of his thighs.

Tyler bent down, his hands splayed on the dark wood, and licked a clean stripe through the wet mess. He took a breath and licked again. Josh slipped his hand between his legs and gripped himself so hard it hurt, a punishment for himself for punishing Tyler.

Tyler looked up, the pink tip of his tongue between his lips. He grinned then, eyes flicking between Josh’s mouth and the hand between his legs. “You’re sick, Josh Dun,” he said through his smile. “You’re not right.”

Josh nodded as he moved forward, knees hitting the floor with a thump, the kitchen knife falling with a clatter at his side. He pushed at Tyler’s shoulders, shifting him back as he kissed him, his hands spread wide against the clammy skin of Tyler’s back. Josh groaned, his mouth open against Tyler’s, desperate and feverish.

“Fuck, Ty, I want-”

“Yeah,” Tyler said against his mouth, letting himself be pushed back until he was sitting on his ass on the hard floor, his arms holding him up at his sides. “Yeah, Josh.”

Josh fucked him again, and afterwards he ran his hot hands over Tyler’s skin, tracing the curves under his eyes and the tendons in his throat, down across his chest and over his ribs, the gentle up-down-up-down of the skin there. Tyler breathed slow under him, his arm around Josh, fingers tapping out a beat against his spine. They grew cold together there on the floor and only got up when Josh started to shiver, the night closing in about them.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are a great kindness :3


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